Welcome to Bleach Platinum Hearts RP! This is a Bleach Role Playing Forum set in the year 2416, over 400 years away from the Original Bleach's timeline. It has elements of both canon and custom for a unique mixture of role playing never seen before on Bleach. To get started, please sign up and read our starter guide:
In the middle of a large black room there was a glass cylander with a body inside, his body. The only thing clothing him was a loincloth around his lower half. Slowly his eyes began to open, one eye was Red, the other was a sick Yellow. The glass slowly cracked and his eyes flashed open, his mouth opening and the glass shattering. He began walking forward, stepping on the shattered glass and bleeding a bit from the soles of his feet, as he reached forward and opened the file titled R.E-X, and muttered to himself, "So I'm a Reborn Espada... Rotten bastards twisted me and left me here to die then... Why havent they woken me up..." His nose scrunched and he growled under his breath as he took hold of a pen and crossed out 'Reborn', then rewriting the word 'Rouge' above it. He grabbed a sort of Hockey mask off the wall and put on some apperently torn and ragged clothing that fit him perfectly. He walked around the room untill a large square block of wall came down, opening up into a hallway as he stepped out and looked around. "This is gonna be fun... Or it's just gonna piss me off before I get out of here." He said as he chuckled and started to walk around inside the maze of hallways.
In the large maze of long, dimly lit hallways, a figure would swiftly sneak from room to room. The being appeared like a moving shadow, more than a person. He was capable of merging with the shadows of the hall quite easily, since lights did tend to flicker on and off constantly. How long has it been since these halls have been tended to? It appears that the beings that monitor Hueco Mundo care little for renovating places such as this. The pitch black figure moved stealthily in between the shadows of metallic doors and such, moving fast enough so that one could just faintly discern a sudden movement, though not enough to induce one to check it out. Who was this moving black mass of darkness, it was in fact The Artist.
How a Null like him is able to make his way into Hueco Mundo without getting spotted, or dying due to the hostile environment is unknown. He must have had to tap into many runes and sophisticated enchantments to stay alive. The reason he has made his way into the dark halls of this facility was to try and steal something of value. Being the ruthless Null he was, he would not stop until he had that which he would consider "Useful" in bettering himself, or his creations.
He would set his eyes on a certain metal door at the end of his hallway. The door appeared larger than the others, a large metallic "X" being engraved onto it, held down by fat steel bolts that ran along the dense metal lines of the cross, only an inch of space between each bolt. This was it, he could tell. This was what he had been looking for all along. Although he knew not what contents laid behind the door, he was certain, as always, that it would be an intelligent idea to take a look. The enchantment he dubbed Schwarzen Mantel was responsible for covering him in a dark, shadowy guise, the only thing not being covered was his eyes, which appeared a bright white, though hard to discern unless one was close enough. Slowly raising his left hand, his fingertips began to glow in five different colors, shining brightly enough to illuminate the hall in its vibrant colors, although even the rays of the visible spectrum didn't change his pitch black form. A moment later... BANG. An explosion could be heard, though it was slightly faint from where the newly awakened Rouge Arracanar known as REX was. The resulting blast shook the ground he stood on for a split second. It sounded like a bomb was just set off not too far from here.
Rex's ear twitched, picking up the sound. As he turned he smiled and mumbled to himself, "Now that sounds like fun." He turned back and went the way he had came, taking his claws and digging them into the wall, carving down a large gash continueously untill he was near where he started, a large gaping hole due to the explosion where the door was. He smiled behind his mask and his left eye changed from it's sick yellow down to a chilling grey, "Yeah, this is gonna be fun."
He peered into the room and took a look around before snapping, a small black flame floating above his finger, somehow generating light to illuminate the room. "Curious... Seems like no one's here..." He slowly turned his back and fluffed his dirty green jacket. "Bummer." He said as he yawned and took a step away from the hole in the wall.
The shadowy form of The Artist was nestled behind a dark corner out in the room he entered in, well hidden by the shadows. The sound of the boy driving his sharpened claws against the wall was a big give off of his presence, and quite helpful it was, for he wouldn't have noticed the oncoming Arracanar if he did not do something so outlandishly foolish. The Artist slowly eyed the boy up and down as he traversed the large room, taking note of all of his details. He looked quite young, as well as act quite young, from the sound of his voice. Was this kid asking for a world of trouble? If so, then he better look elsewhere. Gernard was not going to blow his cover to take on some adolescent, cocky, slasher fanatic of an Arracanar. One thing that stood out from the rest of the room, other than the steaming, meshed metal door that was flung to the other side of the room, was that a large, well chained chest was broken open, the red velvet interior holding no object. He would wait for the masked boy to make his exit, seeing that he overlooked this little aspect, otherwise, he would have stayed where he was to continue his investigation. He slowly peered out of the corner, but refused to make any further movements, in case the cocky little Arracanar were to have a change of mind, and return to the room.
He stopped and turned back around and mumbled, "Shit... Almost forgot..." He went into the room and over to the wall, on which was a serrated machete like zanpakuto with a large metal X behind it. "I missed you so much, oh yes I did, yes I did, were you a good destroyer my brother in arms? Good... Now then." He turned, hooking the zanpakuto to the back of his waist and pointed to the null, "Whats your name? Do I know you, are you an espada?" He tensed his muscles, standing straight now, being abnormally large for his appearent 17 year old, but he was standing at 7'3" and having more obvious strength now, apperently having the blade with him was like a restraint on his spiritual energy, but somehow the pressure in the room became much higher and seemed to be putting an enormous strain on the Artist's body and cracks forming in the walls as both his eyes became red, "I am the X, I am R.E-X. Once again I'll ask, who are you and why are you here, you don't smell human, soul reaper, or arrancar, so what are you aswell..?"
Before any of these questions could be answered, however, a strong presence suddenly made itself known. Because it had been masking it's reiatsu neither of these two beings would have been able to sense it, giving it the element of surprise. The owner of this strong presence was a tall and thin man, with crimson colored hair and pale skin with a slight hint of a tan. It was obvious that this being was an arrancar by the hole in it's stomach and the bone-white mask fragment left on it's face. At it's waist it wore a zanpakuto held up under his belt, the sheath and hilt both pitch black. As it looked at the two beings in the room, there was no emotion visible in it's cold, crimson eyes. "What are you doing here desconocido?" he asked, no emotion in his tone, only his slight Spanish accent. Taking a step closer, it's white jacket, that it wore open, moved enough to reveal the number 2 tattooed on the left side of its chest. Yes, this arrancar was none other than Diablo Cortar, The Cutting Devil and Segunda Espada.
Even as Diablo took a step forward, his cold eyes never left the unwelcome guest, waiting to hear it's answer. Normally, Diablo would be one of the last persons to confront an intruder, but because the other Espada seemed to be busy and the fact that he was the closest, he had no choice but to get involved. Of course, Diablo was always looking for good quality blood to use for his "art", so maybe that was the reason he was here now with this intruder. Of course, Diablo did notice the other arrancar there, but at the moment, the intruder was more important. However, since Diablo didn't recognize the arrancar, there would have to be some questions after the intruder was dealt with. "¿Tengo que volver a preguntar?" he asked in Spanish, showing his habit of mixing Spans and English/Japanese when he spoke. Despite what he asked, however, his tone remained the same, and there were no hints of impatience in his tone or body language.
desconocido=Stranger ¿Tengo que volver a preguntar?= Do I have to ask again?
+Characters+ Ravana Ichiro~Ex-Captain Vizard/Vizard Corps Co-leader~0-3+ Toshizo Hijikata~The Demon Commander~0-3+ Diablo Cortar~The Cutting Devil/Segunda Espada~0-3- Albert Wesker~Biohazard~0-4++ Dracula Vlad Tepes~The Dark Lord~0-4 Okita Souji~Sexy and I know it~0-5+ Alfonso Gunter Reinhold~Evil Bastard~W.I.P. Hanako Ikezawa~Malignant Tragedy~5-5*
He has made such little movement, and has guised himself in a sophisticated enchantment, though that didn't sppear to be enough to fool these two. Strange. Schwarzen Mantel was supposed to fool even the supernatural beings such as Arracanars and Hollows. It looks like he will have to work on it later. Odds are a sense or maybe his reiatsu has leaked out of the cloak, which was supposed to keep all of those hidden. No matter, that can be worked on later. The matter at hand now is that he was not being approached by one, but two beings. Both being Arracanars.
These two looked like they could cause quite a lot of chaos together, though the more mature looking one that withheld a Spanish accent appeared capable of even more trouble. So much for his plan of stealthily exiting the facility.He should have suspected none the less when making his way into a structure in Hueco Mundo. Both the X espada and Diablo Cortar (Katto Katto much?) were awaiting for The Artist to expose himself, and that he did. He would make his way out of the shadows that filled the dark corner, his own form still a walking blotch of darkness. He would slowly let the cloak down, revealing his true identity. Standing before the two was a tall, pale man, who appeared to be in his mid twenties. First thing to note was that he WASN'T showing any negative reaction to the pressure of both of their energies. He must have had experience with dealing with these beings, or he has prepared for such a thing like that as well.
He was adorned in a pair of black, leather snow boots under a pair of deep green pants, slightly baggy. The pants were held together by two thick, dim steel plated belts. He also wore a dark, long sleeve shirt that was tight enough to show his toned torso. All of this partially covered by his long, black leather overcoat that dully shined against the scarce light of the rune. The pale skinned male sported a set of silky, seemingly gelled back hair, which was the only part of him that really had a sheen, as well as a thin mustache that covered the upper half of his lips, stopping right at the corners. The man would keep his equally bitter and cold, silver eyes focused on a piece of space in between the two Arracanars.
It was time for The Artist to present himself to the curious, and even if they had power, he had something that no brute or destroyer could ever wield, (Just learned a little more about Diablo.) Art. Slowly raising his left hand, half way extended out in front of his chest, the dull steel of his glove would unable to give a glint or decent shine in the light. He would stop when his hand appeared right under his chin, pointing at the X espada's general direction, all five of his fingertips stretched out, as if some sort of gesture. He would part his pale lips to speak to the two in a deep, solemn tone that could etch the idea of undoubtful defiance to anyone who dare heard it. His first stroke would be prepared with two words.
(0:37 by now)
He didn't stop the sentence or delay his speech. In fact, he would complete his sentence, not with words, but with action. At the very instant he finished the syllable of "Am", the fingertips of his glove would glow the main colors of the visible spectrum. Red, Yellow, Green, Blue, and Black. It was time to begin his work. The Pointer and ring finger would be the first to draw. Just as quickly the fingertips started to glow, two rays of the color spectrum were merged into one color, by the alteration of tone, and the mixing of color, the result would be a Blizzard (separate from a frost mist). The combined ray made no sound whatsoever, the only form of distinction being the bright luminescent glow of the ray, which shows that he put some decent effort into powering this attack.
Since the X espada was in the general exit of his direction, he must be dealt with first, in order to make a quick, easy escape. The element of surprise was a major factor in the first stroke, as even those who were combat savvy should not expect such a sudden attack, and right during the start of a speech. This would conclude that in the very least, the youthful, cocky arracanar should not be able to think, let alone react in time, regardless of his heightened senses. He is dealing with rays of light here.
The ray, upon contact, would create a powerful burst of not only incredibly cold, sub zero winds directed at the small arracanar, but a highly condensed stream of snow, compacted enough to increase the effectiveness of impact, not only capable of sending the target to the wall, but injuring him via a sudden, nasty drop in temperature. The desired end result would be that the X espada would be temporarily disorientated for the very least, smothering every inch of his form with plenty of snow over every inch allowing him a chance to exit.
This wasn't the end of his tactical assault. He would continue the stroke, only redirecting it. The time he spend keeping his hand its original position was a split second, as he would quickly swing his hand in front of him, his hand tilted so the fingertips face the ground. The original ray fired lasted for only a single, short burst, as to continue firing it was useless, especially if he didn't want to overdo his first stroke. His Pinky, middle, and thumb were next to act. His arm only moved about a foot (The "Crosshairs" moving a meter away from the primary target.") And the tips would fire rays once again. The Red and Green rays would merge together to form an orange ray, the ray of magma, The starting point being at the northeast corner, (That is the corner to the back-left of Diablo.), The orange ray would quickly etch a curved line upon the ground, the lower half being visible in the Katto Arracanar's view if he had yet to gaze in another direction since his first question. Once the curved line reached the edge of the West wall, the shining streak of orange would activate, exploding into a wall of magma that was as tall as the normal sized room, slightly angled so the immensely hot material would cave in towards the Segunda Espada upon explosion. If the espada wasn't quick on his feet, or if he himself wa too slow to react to the surprise he made (Since the total time of this single stroke is about a second.), he would come face first into a burning wave of molten liquid. But this wasn't the end of his first streak. Since he had his thumb stuck out towards a different direction from the other two fingers, he could immediately start his final part in the attack. At the near-end of the swing A black ray would fire from his thumb, his hand quickly moving as a dark, purplish light was being etched onto the wall, his piece of art now in the works. His hands moved as if he had been drawing for years, except at a more inhuman rate. To be able to fire off three rays, which created an instant elemental attack, a slightly delayed elemental attack, and a dormant attack, was a feat that is truly worthy of admiration. Such a frivolous and swift act must have required intense training with his Null tool, as well as plenty of "Drawing." This was his advanced experience with the glove at work. This iis ... The Artist at work.